


Introspection

by Crescent_Moon_Demon



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2380631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescent_Moon_Demon/pseuds/Crescent_Moon_Demon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When war rages on, where does Logic stand? And what about love? Drabble-ish oneshot; mentions of Mech/Mech slash, mild Angst</p>
            </blockquote>





	Introspection

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted September 14, 2011

 

**C.M.D: I... have never written these characters before (excluding Perceptor) and certainly not together. So I apologize in advance for any oocness...  
Done as a prompt (and a full on cyber hassle. You know it's true!) because of a friend... Should be fairly obvious who it is, since he's the only other person I personally know on this site here.**

* * *

_**Introspection** _

* * *

"Note of response: unusual. Beginning analysis for anomalies."

Computron stood among the wreckage of a recent battle with the Decepticons, focus fixed on the small Autobot scientist running about just by his pedes. His injuries ached, but the logical combiner was determined to solve the puzzle that had been presented before him. He had never before seen so much worry in the other mech. Especially not directed to the large Transformer himself.

Processor buzzing, Computron began to list realistic explanations for Perceptor's personality shift. "Possible theories: Decepticon tampering. Searching for evidence... searching... searching... Supporting evidence: not found. Theory invalid."

The combiner continued his analysis, becoming further determined to find the solution as the answer eluded him still. Some concern for an Autobot that didn't act like himself egged the giant mech on. "Searching... searching... Evidence found. Source of alternate response: emotional stress. Percentage of factuality: ninety-nine point seven."

"Computron!," Rodimus yelled from below. "Hurry up and disassemble so that the Technobots might help us clean up. You standing there and muttering math to yourself isn't making things move any faster."

"Fact noted," Computron replied. "Shall do as ordered." The combiner glanced one last time at Perceptor, who had moved on and was now assisting First Aid with some repairs on the more injured Autobots. "Cause of change: undefined," the giant mech mumbled to himself, remembering his previous thought process. "Starting analysis..."

Still running through probabilities, Computron split once more into his five individual selves; responding to Rodimus' command.

* * *

"He likes us," Nosecone announced one afternoon.

His brothers looked up from their own energon cubes, shuttering their optics at the sudden declaration. There was no need to inquire to what the drill-tank was referring to; their bonded sparks shared the same thought within an instant, enlightening them all to what the one technobot was talking about. Angrily, Afterburner threw his half-finished cube across the table.

"How dare he?," the motorcycle shouted. "That geeky little nerd- what right does he have feeling anything towards us? He doesn't know his place!"

"Woah, Afterburner," Lightspeed piped up, lifting his servos to his brother. "Please, calm down. Such a reaction is unnecessary."

"Don't tell me what to do!," Afterburner screamed back.

"You really think he likes us, 'Cone?," Strafe asked, sliding his cube back and forth between his servos. The edgy technobot was rocking in his seat, humming to himself nonsensically. "He is kinda cute, and he's smart- almost like daddy was. Oooooh, wonder what kind of crazy, energon-pumping activities he gets up to."

"NOTHING!," Afterburner yelled again. "That geek doesn't do ANYTHING fun! He should mind his own fragging business and-"

"Stop yelling!," Scattershot shouted in return. "You're making so much fragging noise and now everybody's looking at us! We don't need to look like idiots in front of them!"

"Whose looking like an idiot! You are the idiot!"

"WHAT?"

"Guys, guys!," Lightspeed choked, leaping to his pedes as Scattershot and Afterburner jumped up, lunging at each other. "Woah! Stop fighting!"

"This is completely unnecessary...," Nosecone started slowly.

"Get one inch closer and I'll blast you both!," Strafe shouted over the din of his brothers wrestling, pulling his guns out of subspace quickly. His fingers tapped over the triggers anxiously.

Strafe!," Lightspeed cried in alarm. He immediately moved to take the guns out of his antsy brother's servos. "No shooting the others!"

"...honestly," Nosecone was still saying, "It's not as if he's even aware of his own feelings."

The fighting suddenly stopped at the drill-tank's words, the other four technobots turning to their oldest brother. "WHAT? WE NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR THAT NERD OR SOMETHING?"

The more rational mechs of the gestalt sighed at Afterburner's typical response.

* * *

It was quiet in the lab.

Perceptor sat by himself, working silently on a new project. He was so lost in his thoughts, fully engrossed in his work, that when he noticed he needed a wrench he turned slightly from his project, saying, "Wheeljack, would you be so gracious as to hand me the-"

His words caught up with his processor an astrosecond after and it with was a heavy spark that the scientist remembered he was all alone. Wheeljack and everyone else... they had died. Joined the Well of All-Sparks. Feeling heat build behind his optics, Perceptor turned away from the empty lab; staring distantly down upon his latest experiment.

The war... it would never end would it?

He had lost so many since it had first began. Optimus, Wheeljack, the Twins... those had been the hardest things to lose in the past year. Just when the mech had started to think that maybe he could survive this war, life had turned around and suddenly ripped the most important people out of it. His leader, his best friend, his lovers...

A knock at the door startled Perceptor.

"Y-yes?," he called, shakily rising to his pedes. He wiped at his optics hurriedly, brushing away the traces of coolant that had collected.

Hoping that he looked seemly enough, Perceptor made for the door, opening it. He backed slightly with a gasp, surprised to see Computron standing just outside. The giant transformer bent slightly, trying to even the distance between himself and the scientist. "O-oh, Computron!," the red mech stuttered, "What an unexpected surprise. What brings you here, if I might so inquire?"

"Assistance needed," the combiner answered. "Sufficient data not available for proper prognosis. Must gather further information."

"Oh well. I'd be glad to offer whatever help that I can," Perceptor answered. He stepped back, holding an arm out invitingly. "Would you care to come inside so we might discuss things more?"

"Motion unnecessary," Computron replied. "Data to be acquired away from labs. Will follow?"

"Umm, well..." Perceptor shuffled nervously on his pedes. He looked from the combiner to the forlorn, dimly-lit expanse of his lab, before finally coming to a conclusion. "Yes; yes I will come with you. Where to?"

"Destination: a surprise."

"Oh... okay...," the scientist mumbled in puzzlement, beginning to walk after the giant transformer. Noticing the smaller Autobot's slow progress, Computron paused, bending down and lifting Perceptor up easily. The microscope squeaked a little at the sudden motion, before blushing in embarrassment, turning his helm down to his lap.

"W-would it not be easier to just split, so that we might walk in equal pace to the location? At least then you would not be obligated to carry me..."

"Motion counter-active," Computron said to Perceptor's awkward question. "Individual processors inhibited by separate emotional stimuli. Analysis would not be complete without single, collective intuition."

"Yes... That is logical," Perceptor concurred, recalling how different each of the technobots. How mechs such as Afterburner or Strafe managed to form this giant, hulking intelligent being was almost baffling to the outside processor. All the same, the scientist still had his doubts at how such a merge could be possible. But he was not one to complain about it, oh no! He was rather fascinated and couldn't help his curiosity. Suppose maybe Computron would allow him to conduct his own research on the combiner...?

Falling silent, Perceptor lost himself in his own thoughts -not nearly as dark as before- being carried to who knew where on Cybertron.

* * *

Introducing the scientist to the strange specimen that had crashed onto the steel plains had immediately drawn Perceptor's absolute attention. The microscope pecked and prodded at the space debris, moving about it to study it from different angles; transforming and zooming in with his lens to further analyze the rock. Computron stood by silently, optics fixed wholly on Perceptor, running his own set of percentile through his processor.

Logic completed him, controlled his very actions.

But logic was not the only factor within this equation.

The collective entity that was Computron was being marginally swayed by each of the individual aspects of his five parts. Their thoughts pooled into the core of his processor; stirring in a small decimal of emotional stimuli into his well of never-ending calculations.

It made things suddenly that much more different.

Perceptor had finished with his study, and had turned to the combiner. His servos were held anxiously before him, helm cocked slightly to the side as he stared up at the bigger Autobot, apparently waiting for Computron's attention. The scientist knew well how long it might take the other Transformer to respond, especially when he was in the middle of a lengthy analysis.

Computron's optics flared lightly as he withdrew from the depths of his processor, looking fully at Perceptor. "You have a question?," the combiner said, more than asked.

"W-well, yes... you see," Perceptor paused, swallowing sharply. He wasn't quite sure but having those fathomless blue optics fixed on him so fully, no doubt every inch of himself being studied and processed within that intelligent mind, made him somewhat nervous. For reasons the scientist couldn't quite grasp himself. "This is a very interesting find and I don't believe it would be fair if I kept it all to myself. Perhaps you would not mind to join me in my lab sometimes, to assist in more theories and experiments that I partake in? Not to push or anything... but indeed, two processors are at better capacity than just one, as the humans like to say."

Lights flashed on Computron's chestplates as he processed this bit of data. Then, shockingly, a smile appeared on the combiner's usually blank face. Reaching down, Computron gently lifted Perceptor's servo with a finger, pressing his upper lip component upon the back of the scientist's palm just barely.

"I would be most honoured to assist you," the giant Autobot said, pulling back slightly from the blushing microscope.

Perceptor felt his spark give a little whirl of a spin, glancing up at Computron shyly. "O-okay...," he mumbled distractedly, unable to articulate properly with his processor all jumbled up. This had hardly been the response he had anticipated. But deep down, through the dark knot of despair inside of him, a tiny part of him was wondering:

Would it be alright, if just maybe...?

* * *

**C.M.D: Angsty... no matter what I do, it's always angsty. What is with me and angst? And even after Randomus went and made this pairing an almost happy/cracky one. Anyways... Be kind; give me your mind~  
REVIEW please?  
**


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